


Not Frakking

by SomewhereApart



Category: Battlestar Galactica
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 05:25:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1970619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhereApart/pseuds/SomewhereApart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee, Kara, a blue dress, and a bathroom stall. And some intruders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Frakking

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://bsg-pornbattle.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://bsg-pornbattle.livejournal.com/)**bsg_pornbattle** . Prompts: dress, public.

Lee’s not quite sure how they got here. There was that dress (gods, that dress, with all its curve-hugging blue, so soft under his palms, over her curves), there was dancing, and then there was Kara teasing him about staring (he couldn’t keep his eyes off her lips, glossy and pink and kissable), and there was that glint in her eyes, a slight tilt of her head and they were headed off the dance floor, toward the short, dark hallway that leads to the bathroom.

And now... Now, Lee is on his knees in the last stall of the ladies room, one hand splayed low on her belly, holding up the fall of blue silk. The other is trapped between Kara’s writhing hips and the cool metal of the stall, the sashes around her wrists woven through his fisted fingers so her hands can’t do more than flex to brush the wall or claw at his wrist as his tongue licks and licks and licks between her thighs.

Her thighs are trembling, and she’s gasping his name, moaning as he sucks and jerking her wrists against his hold when he nips her clit gently. Her head hits the partition with a thud, and then he hears the door swing open, and the chattering voices of Dee and Cally.

Lee whips his head away and looks up at Kara, who’s biting her bottom lip and giving him a pleading look so un-Starbuck that for a second its almost like looking at someone else. Then she nudges him with her foot and glares, and she’s back.

There’s an empty stall between them and their intruders, so he lets go of her dress to press a finger against his lips and urge her to be quiet, then lifts the fabric again to slide his tongue against her.

“I think they’re frakking,” Cally says, and Dee tells her not to be ridiculous while Lee eases from licks to slow, tantalizing sucks. He feels the bite of Kara’s blunt nails on his wrist again, and she bucks slightly against his mouth.

“Oh come on, did you see the way they were dancing?” The toilet flushing masks Kara’s grunt when Lee scrapes his teeth against her so, so gently. She’s holding her breath to keep from panting, and her face is starting to turn red from the effort. “And then they just disappeared. No one has seen them in five minutes.”

“You’re making it up, Cally,” Dee assures, and he can almost hear the way her eyes are rolling. Kara’s eyes are rolling now too, but for entirely different reasons. “Starbuck and Apollo aren’t frakking.” Lee buries his face harder against Kara to keep from laughing – oh, if only they knew – and Kara’s whole body jerks with pleasure. “If they were, there wouldn’t be so much damned tension.”

Cally is conceding that point as the door swings shut behind them, and Kara’s breath rushes out in a huff before she sucks in a gasp of air and moans. Loudly. “So close,” she pants, pushing her hips against him when he tongues her again. Lee knows she’s not talking about how they almost got caught, so he licks harder, nips again, then sucks and sucks and soon she’s shaking and calling his name, and it’s all he can do not to let go of her wrists so he can take himself in hand and relieve some of the pressure himself.

She goes boneless against the wall, and Lee lets her slide down until she’s on her knees with him. Her mouth is on his then, hot and hard, and he lets go of her wrists so he can tangle his fingers in her hair. When their mouths finally separate, he’s panting just as hard as she is.

“They were right, you know,” she smirks, her hand reaching between them.

“About?”

“We’re not frakking.” And then she’s flipping his belt open, reaching into his pants, and her palm is hot and a little damp around him when she starts to stroke. She’s still smirking when she leans in to bite his bottom lip and murmur, “Yet.”  



End file.
